


Interruption

by stormypetrel



Category: Blake’s 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 14:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormypetrel/pseuds/stormypetrel
Summary: Blake had intended to launch an attack on the K-14 deep space cruiser supply and repair base as payback for losing Cally on Centero; but having got her back, somehow the idea just wouldn’t go away...





	1. Chapter 1

+We are now in stationary orbit,+ announced Zen, + One thousand spacials above the planet K-14.+

“Thank you, Zen.” Blake glanced round at the rest of his crew, who were variously seated about the flight deck. “Can we have visual?”

An image of the Federation supply and repair base appeared on the main screen.

“Hospitable enough,” said Avon critically, “If it wasn’t crawling with Federation troops. Do you have a plan?”

“I’ll need your help.”

“Naturally.” Avon gave Blake a sardonic look. “But I would like to know what you’re asking for before we get down there. I have no desire to commit suicide unnecessarily.”

“We’ll need some explosive charges. You know what you’re doing with those; show Jenna, and she can help you get them ready.” Turning his back on Avon’s cold stare as if he was unaware of it, Blake continued, “You too, Vila.”

“Me?” Vila looked up sharply at this indication that he had not been forgotten. “Are you sure you need me?”

“We’re going to have to get in somehow. I don’t suppose they’re exactly going to open the gates and welcome us.”

“That’s what worries me!”

“We need to move quickly; they don’t seem to have noticed we’re here yet, but we can’t rely on it lasting. Cally, you and Gan stay on board.” Cally nodded agreement to Blake’s instructions; he went on, “If you see any sign of pursuit ships while we’re down there, let us know; in the meantime, get ready to operate the teleport.”

“Right.” Cally headed off to do so; the others, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, went to get their own things ready, leaving Gan on the flight deck to watch the detector screens.

.....................................................................................................................................

Blake was already waiting by the teleport with Cally when Avon and Jenna arrived; Jenna held up a nondescript bag in answer to his unspoken question. 

“These should be enough, shouldn’t they?” she asked.

“Yes, I should think so.”

“Then what are we waiting for- as if I can’t guess?” Avon adjusted a teleport bracelet on his wrist, handing one to Jenna as well.

“Vila,” answered Blake, as the straggler arrived, clutching his toolbox. “Get a move on.”

“All right!” Vila joined them in the teleport bay, still fixing a bracelet in place.

“Ready?” asked Cally. The four of them nodded agreement; Cally operated the teleport switches and watched as they disappeared from sight.

.....................................................................................................................................

The depot on K-14 was large, industrial-looking, and tightly secured. Scrubby undergrowth covered the ground outside the vicious razor-wire fence; the little group who had just appeared in the bushes regarded it in silence, taking in the security measures and the Federation troops going about their business on the other side of the wire. After a moment’s pause, Blake beckoned the others to follow him. Cautiously, they worked their way round to a relatively quiet spot at the rear of the complex.

A narrow approach track led to the back gate, obviously little-used; they held back until they were certain it was clear, then Blake stepped out of cover, his gun drawn and ready. Before the others could follow, however, he dropped to the ground and froze. A faint beeping sound, growing ever louder, told them why.

“Security robot,” breathed Blake, getting to his feet and rejoining them as the sound faded once more. “It’s all right; it’s gone for the moment. We need to be through that gate before it comes back. Think you can handle it, Vila?”

“It’s not an easy one...”

“I thought there was no lock in the universe you couldn’t open,” remarked Avon.

“Let me have a look at it.” Vila approached the gate cautiously, Blake following in case a guard should turn up unexpectedly. After a quick inspection of the mechanism, Vila knelt, selected one of his tools from the box, and set to work. He appeared to be oblivious to Blake, the others, or indeed anything but the lock in front of him; even so, after a few seconds he seemed to hesitate.

“What is it?” hissed Blake, taking a step nearer. There was no answer other than a shake of the head; then Vila carried on. “Vila...” A sudden, sharp bang brought Blake up short; Vila leapt backwards with a startled yell as the lock sparked. He had no time to speak; Blake grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back into the bushes as an ominous beeping sound warned them that they were not the only ones to have heard the miniature explosion.

“So that’s an example of your genius?” inquired Avon as they lay in the grass, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’d like to see you try...”

“Shut up!” whispered Jenna urgently. “Look!” They watched as the security robot reached the gate again and slowly surveyed the area. Just as slowly and deliberately- or so it seemed to its audience- it lowered its weapon, fired a shot through the gate and trundled off again, leaving a tuft of smouldering grass as a reminder of its presence. There was a collective sigh of relief.

“Shall we try again?” suggested Blake.


	2. Chapter 2

This time they got through the gate without incident. Still making sure they kept well out of sight, they headed towards the nearest buildings.

“What exactly are we looking for?” asked Jenna, as they took cover behind a nearby stack of barrels.

“The main computer control unit,” Blake answered. “If we can disrupt their supply chain commands, they’ll be in chaos for months.”

“And do you have any idea where in this place it is?” queried Avon. His tone suggested he was not expecting an answer in the affirmative.

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” answered Blake evenly. “I suggest you and Vila start in that direction; Jenna, you come with me.” He didn’t bother waiting to see if his instructions were being followed; Jenna hurried after him as he headed towards the north side of the complex.

“Have you really no idea what we’re looking for?” she whispered, as they were forced into cover once more.

“We’ll know when we find it.” Blake smiled at her. “Anyway, they’re not expecting us. If we’re really lucky there might even be a sign on the door.” The suggestion was hardly serious; Jenna laughed.

“Now that would be something.”

.....................................................................................................................................

Avon and Vila, meanwhile, were pressed closely against the wall of an outbuilding, waiting for a group of Federation pilots around the corner to move on. Vila had his eyes closed; he might have been listening, but Avon was watching their surroundings intently, waiting for an opportunity to get past the men unseen. To his disgust, they seemed in no hurry to move on, engaged as they were in friendly conversation. Eventually, however, they began to walk away. Avon immediately started out from behind the outbuilding; then, realising he was the only one moving, stepped back and elbowed his companion sharply.

“Ow!” Vila’s eyes shot open; looking rather indignant, he followed.

“Wait!” They were barely round the corner when Avon held out a hand to stop him. “Over there.” They watched as two men headed towards a door on the other side of the yard ahead, carrying something which looked suspiciously like a transmitter of some sort; the door remained tantalisingly ajar as the men disappeared from view. 

Avon reached for his bracelet. “Blake?”

.....................................................................................................................................

Blake and Jenna were peering in through a window when Avon made contact; luckily there was nobody close enough to hear the communicator pinging. Blake answered before it could make any more noise.

“What is it?”

“You might want to get over here.” Avon’s reply came through casually enough. “We seem to have found a way in. I think it’s the communications unit.”

“All right. Where are you?” 

“Keep coming back until you’re just past the first outbuilding beyond where we came in, then look for a red door opposite. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Right.” Blake turned to Jenna. “Come on; it sounds like our best chance.” She nodded agreement. As carefully as ever, they retraced their steps, then edged along the outbuilding Avon had mentioned and looked round the corner. Seeing the way was clear, they stepped into the yard; a familiar figure stepped out of the red door and waved. Jenna pointed.

“There’s Vila.”

They ran across the yard to join him; he held the door open just long enough for them to get safely inside, then made sure it was firmly closed behind them.

“The messengers’ room is just along there.” Avon wasted no time on greetings; he pointed down the corridor they had found themselves in.

“What about it?” asked Blake.

“Knock that out and they have less chance of calling for assistance once you start work.”

“That’s an idea.” Blake nodded approvingly. He led the way to the room Avon had pointed out; then, pausing just long enough to check that the others had grasped what he was about to do, he burst the door open. “Hands up!” he shouted, as the startled communications officer jumped up from behind his instrument panel.

“What...” The young man did as he was hidden, but still made a feeble attempt at protest. “You can’t just come in here!”

“It appears we just have,” Avon informed him.

“Do as you’re told and you won’t get hurt. Vila, watch the door; Avon, you’re the expert on that thing, I believe.” Blake gestured to the instrument panel vacated by the operator. “Jenna and I will make sure this gentleman doesn’t try to interfere.”

“You can’t do this!” The young operator stared as if fixated by the gun Blake was pointing at him; but as Jenna took a step closer, he made a desperate, doomed attempt to escape. Unluckily for him, Jenna was ready for such a move. She caught him as he stumbled; he struggled, but a well-aimed knee from her stopped him in his tracks, at least temporarily. Winded, he swayed, then reached out as if to continue the struggle.

Jenna, Avon and Blake all went for him at the same moment; there was a loud thud as his head smashed into the instrument panel with some force, then another as he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

“You asked for that,” Jenna told the motionless form, brushing herself down. Blake lowered his gun; Avon returned to checking the controls.

“Not a method I would usually use to put a computer out of order,” he remarked.

“He’s made a bit of a dent.” Vila glanced across from the door. “Still, if it works...”

“It has undoubtedly worked.” Avon picked up part of the panel which had cracked off under the force of the operator’s head, regarded it with distaste for a moment and then cast it to one side.

“I don’t imagine it did him much good either,” pointed out Blake. Jenna knelt to check the man’s pulse.

“He’s still breathing.”

“We’d better get him out of the way somewhere.” Between them they managed to manhandle the unconscious man into a nearby cupboard and close the door on him.

“The outbound channel is blocked,” confirmed Avon, looking up from a diagram on the panel he was studying. “Inbound messages can still be received. It might be less suspicious if we leave it that way.”

“We’d better leave someone to keep an eye on it, then. We might pick up something useful; and we don’t know if anyone’s due to relieve him, anyway.” Blake gestured towards the cupboard. “We don’t want to leave it to chance at this stage.” Avon made an impatient noise at this comment; Blake ignored him. “Vila, you stay here and keep watch. The rest of us will carry on and find the main computer.”

“Me? On my own?” Vila did not look keen.

“We’ll keep in contact.”

“What if someone comes?”

“That is what your gun is for,” said Avon. Vila looked down at the weapon as if he had never seen it before.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” he inquired faintly.

“Oh, come on, Blake.” Avon, still impatient, led the way this time. “If we’re going, let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

They reached the main control room with remarkably little difficulty; pausing in the corridor outside, Jenna looked at Avon curiously.

“How did you know which way to come?”

“It was quite simple,” he assured her. “I looked at the map.” Blake looked across sharply, overhearing this; Avon smiled. “Didn’t you notice it, back there? Or were you too busy working out how to deal with the enemy?”

“One of us has to,” answered Blake coolly. He tried the handle of the control room door. “Locked,” he reported in irritation.

“It will be an unmanned system,” said Avon. “The technicians will check it every so often, but the rest of the time...”

“Can you get in, or do I have to call Vila along here after all?”

“I think I can handle it.”

“How long will it take you?”

“Longer if I have to stand here discussing it.” Avon turned and gave the keypad an experimental prod.

“Maybe we should call Vila.” Blake pressed the button on his wrist. “Vila, it’s Blake. Is anything happening back there?” There was no answer; Avon, with a disparaging look, carried on with his attempt to open the door; Blake and Jenna exchanged puzzled glances. Blake tried again. “Vila! Come in!” This time there was a faint, unidentifiable sound in return, before the transmission cut out; Blake looked exasperated. “What’s he doing?”

“Vila, this is Jenna. What’s going on?” Still getting no reply, Jenna added, “Are you all right?” After another pause, the question finally elicited a response.

“No.” It was barely more than a feeble groan.

“What do you mean, no?” demanded Blake.

“I should have thought that was fairly obvious,” said Avon, without turning round.

“Vila, what’s the matter?” Jenna tried again. “Is there someone there?”

“No-o...”

“We’d better see what’s going on,” Blake decided. “Jenna, go and check on him, will you? And let us know what’s happened. He didn’t sound normal.”

“Does he ever?” queried Avon. Jenna ignored this.

“All right; I won’t be long,” she promised.

.....................................................................................................................................

Jenna made her way back to the messengers’ room as quickly as she could, twice stopping to avoid being seen by passing guards. For a moment, when she finally reached it, she thought the room was deserted; then a slight movement alerted her to where Vila was sitting against the base of a filing cabinet, his head drooping alarmingly.

“What happened?” she exclaimed.

He managed to look up at her to answer. “Hit me... I think.”

“What hit you?” Jenna knelt down beside him. “They did a good job of it; you’re bleeding.”

Vila raised a hand to his head to check, wincing as he found the sticky patch oozing through his hair. “Ooh...”

“Who did it?” asked Jenna again. Vila, now looking with a sickly expression at the blood which had transferred itself to his fingers, waved his other hand vaguely in the direction of the cupboard where the communications officer had been imprisoned. Jenna glanced across, noting the now-open door. “You were supposed to be keeping watch!”

“I was... oh, my head.”

“Can you stand?” Realising a coherent explanation was going to have to wait, Jenna helped him to his feet; he staggered, grasped at the nearest solid object- the filing cabinet- for support, and hung on to it, blinking dizzily. Hurriedly, she steadied him. “Obviously not.” Detaching him from the cabinet, she deposited him into the operator’s chair, where he sat clutching his head and looking decidedly queasy. “Avon’s trying to open a locked door without your help, by the way.”

“I wish him luck,” murmured Vila.

“Well, I don’t suppose you’d be much use in that state.” Jenna gave an impatient sigh. “Are you any better now?” She received a groan in reply. “How many fingers?” Vila fixed an unfocused stare on the hand she held up for him.

“If you kept your hand still I could tell you,” he complained.

“I’m not moving it, Vila.”

“Are you sure?”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “I suppose that answers that. If one of the others comes and takes your place, do you think you feel up to the teleport?” she asked.

“Yes? Maybe. Probably.” Vila sounded uncertain.

“It’s that or nothing,” she warned him. He nodded unhappily, looking down at the floor again; she raised her wrist and spoke before he could change his mind. “Liberator? Come in, please.”

“Cally here.” The response was instant; Cally had obviously been waiting for contact.

“Can one of you get ready to come down? Vila’s been hurt. I don’t know if I should send him back on his own, but one of us needs to stay here.”

“Of course! I’ll tell Gan. He’ll be as quick as he can.”

“Thanks.”

“Jenna? I don’t feel very well...” Vila’s sudden interruption held an urgent note. It was enough to distract Jenna; she took the merest glance at him before dashing for a nearby fire bucket and thrusting it into his hands. The choking, strangled gulp which followed as he grasped the bucket like a lifeline told Jenna she had guessed correctly; looking away, she took a hurried step backwards, her back towards the door. An instant later, she regretted it. An iron grip suddenly wrapped around her upper body, taking her by surprise. She struggled, but the hold only grew tighter, pinning her arms firmly against her sides.

“Don’t move,” came a steely warning from behind her. “Or you might regret it.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you ready?” Cally looked up expectantly as Gan came into the teleport section, dressed in his surface clothes. He nodded, fixing a bracelet round his wrist.

“I’m ready,” he confirmed, stepping back into the teleport bay. Cally watched as he dematerialised, then sat back to wait until she received the call to bring him back up with Vila.

Gan, materialising in the messengers’ room, looked about him in confusion.

“Hello?” he called. The room was deserted; there was no answer. Not wanting to attract any unwanted attention, he decided not to call again, but went to the door and looked out into the corridor. It, too, was empty. Puzzled and beginning to be a little concerned, he tried the communicator instead. “Jenna? Where are you?” He waited, but there was still no response. “Vila?” Receiving only silence, he tried a test to see if it was working. “Cally, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” replied Cally instantly. “Is Vila ready to come up?”

“He’s not here.”

“Not there?”

“Nor is Jenna. Are you sure I’m in the right place?” There was a moment’s pause as Cally checked the coordinates again ; then,

“Yes.” She sounded concerned. “Have you tried to contact them?”

“Yes, but they’re not responding.” Gan looked round the room, hoping for some sort of clue as to the whereabouts of the others. “Do you think something’s happened to them? The place is in a bit of a mess.” He stopped, studying the cabinet he was standing next to more closely. “I think that’s blood...” Reluctantly, he tested the stain with a finger. 

“Jenna said Vila was hurt,” Cally reminded him.

“But if anyone came up on them...”

“You wait there. I’ll see if I can reach Blake.”

“All right. Perhaps he’ll know what’s happened,” agreed Gan.

“And if he doesn’t, we ought to tell him.” Definitely worried now, Cally lost no time in contacting Blake. He answered quickly enough, although he sounded a little distracted at first.

“What is it?”

“Blake, are the others with you? Jenna and Vila?”

“No; why do you ask? Avon’s here.” Blake looked over his shoulder at Avon, who was still fiddling with the keypad on the control room door. “I had to send Jenna back to check on Vila...”

“I know that; he was hurt, and she asked one of us to come down and help.”

“She didn’t tell me that.” Blake, too, sounded worried now. “She was supposed to be keeping in contact.”

“Maybe she can’t. Gan has just gone to help them, and there is no sign of them. Either of them. They’ve both disappeared.”

“Have you tried bringing them up?”

Cally leant towards the teleport controls at this suggestion; she tried, but the teleport bay remained stubbornly empty.

“It’s not working,” she reported. “They must be out of range.”

“Or not wearing their bracelets,” said Blake darkly. “All right, Cally. You stand by, and if you hear anything from either of them let me know immediately.”

“Right.”

“In the meantime we’ll look for them down here. This door will have to wait.” The last part of this comment was aimed at Avon, who had already paused to listen to the discussion.

“Blake?” Cally paused, still looking at the empty teleport bay. “Try and hurry. I have a feeling... I think they may be in trouble.”

.....................................................................................................................................

As it happened, there was good reason for Cally to fear for the others.

When she had received the warning to stop moving, Jenna had followed it; the grip of whoever was holding her was too strong to fight against, and it was clear that no help was forthcoming. She tried to school her face into indifference as a Federation trooper crossed the room, his rifle levelled at her and Vila, but could not quite manage to hide her simmering rage. The trooper stood behind Vila, who was still groaning into his bucket, and poked him between the shoulders with the gun.

“Get up,” came the instruction, still from behind Jenna. She tried to turn her head to see who was speaking; the man holding her did not seem to object, but nor did he loosen his grip. Vila, feeling the gun digging into his back, looked up with an expression of nervous apology.

“I’d love to, really,” he said, “But I don’t know if I can...”

“We can shoot you here if you’d prefer.”

Jenna still couldn’t see the speaker, but she presumed Vila could; and judging by his reaction, he had seen enough to take the threat seriously. Turning a shade paler than he was already, he swallowed and made an effort to get to his feet.

“Now let’s not be hasty... maybe I can manage, when you put it like that...” He staggered upright; unexpectedly, the trooper with the gun leant forward and caught the hood of his jacket to steady him. “Thanks,” said Vila, still too dazed to be surprised.

“Now move, both of you.”

Jenna felt the grip around her chest relax, only to be replaced by what was all too clearly a second gun pressed into her spine. She turned towards the door obediently, seeing there was no alternative. A non-commissioned officer stood there, obviously the man who was issuing the orders; he had removed his helmet to speak, his ordinary appearance strangely at odds with the threats he had been issuing. The two troopers disarmed Jenna and Vila, carefully keeping them covered with their own guns as they did so; Vila gave his guard a faintly hopeful look.

“Do you mind if I keep this?” He held up the fire bucket he was still clutching. “Only I’m not sure if I’ve finished with it...”

“Get on with it!” The sergeant was waiting no longer; he led the way down the corridor, the troopers forcing their prisoners to follow.


	5. Chapter 5

They were well out of sight and hearing by the time Gan had arrived. Just as worried as Cally and Blake, and not a little confused, he was only too pleased when Blake and Avon arrived to join him. Both looked frustrated.

“Gan. What the hell is going on?” Blake demanded.

“I’m not sure,” Gan admitted. “Has Cally spoken to you?”

“Yes. There’s still no sign of them?” Gan shook his head apologetically; Blake was about to reply, then looked round as he heard the creak of a door hinge. Avon stood holding the open door of the cupboard, his expression clearly indicating that what had happened should have been obvious to the most casual observer.

“It appears we didn’t hit our man as hard as we thought,” he remarked. “The cupboard is bare.”

Blake glanced shortly at the empty cupboard, then looked round the rest of the room, spotting a familiar red box sitting forlornly on the floor.

“Vila’s left his tools behind,” he observed. “I doubt he’d have done that if he’d meant to go anywhere.” He turned to Gan again. “Jenna didn’t sound in any difficulty when she contacted you?”

Gan shook his head, but got no chance to elaborate as the instrument panel behind them began to make a crackling noise.

“Avon...” Blake began; but Avon was already there, tuning in the signal and deciphering the message.

“Estimated time of arrival now one hour ahead of schedule... please acknowledge.” He looked up as the transmission halted. “That’s it.”

“That could mean anything,” said Blake. Avon gave him a contemptuous look.

“That could mean one thing, and one thing only,” he answered. “Something is heading this way, and as long as we’re here the Liberator is sitting up there like a waiting target. We need to get out of here.”

“Then we’d better find the others quickly, hadn’t we?” Blake spoke quietly enough, but it was a challenge, and Avon knew it. He gave a faint shrug which might have meant anything. “We’ll warn Cally to be on the look-out, and then get moving. And bring that box; it might come in useful.”

Gan picked up Vila’s forgotten toolbox; Avon, after watching Blake for a few moments, took out one of the explosive devices they had brought and fixed it to the broken instrument panel.

“The less chance they have of repairing this the better. If they don’t answer that message at least it might hold up whatever’s on its way.”

Blake nodded; Avon set the timer as they prepared to move out.

.....................................................................................................................................

All three members of the search party swiftly realised that the main problem they would have in searching the K-14 depot was its sheer size. This time Avon had removed the data sheet showing the map from the instrument panel, and brought it with him; even so, studying it did not provide them with any great clue. Blake and Avon stood puzzling over the diagram, Gan looking over their shoulders.

“This is the way we came,” said Blake, tracing a line along the map with his finger, “So we can rule that out. We’d have seen them otherwise.”

“Well, they’re not likely to be in any of the operational areas.” Avon gave him a questioning look. “At least, I take it we are agreed that they have been captured and haven’t just wandered off of their own accord?”

“I think we can assume that,” agreed Blake.

“Then the administrative quarters would also seem unlikely.”

“What about this?” Blake pointed to a corner of the map which appeared to be unmarked. “They haven’t bothered to mark what this section’s for. Either it’s not important, or they don’t want to advertise it.”

“It’s possible.”

Gan, content to accept the judgement of the others, nodded agreement.

“It’s about as far away from this side of the complex as we can get, as well,” Blake went on.

“Naturally.”

“But it’s our best chance at the moment, and we have to try something.” Blake let go of the map and looked at Avon. “When did you set that charge to go off?”

“I gave it fifteen minutes. I thought it might be advisable for us to be well out of range when it does.”

“It should distract them. That should make things easier for us.”

“You hope,” said Avon. He seemed to have resigned himself to the idea, however. Taking a last glance at the map himself, he prepared to follow Blake. “I take it you’re giving up on your original plan?”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Well, since reality seems to have intervened, as it so often does...”

“We’re postponing it, that’s all,” Blake corrected. “We know where the main computer is now; it can wait...”

“But Jenna and Vila...” put in Gan.

“They may not have that luxury,” admitted Blake. “So let’s hope we can find them. Quickly.”


	6. Chapter 6

Deep inside the complex, in a claustrophobic, windowless prison cell, Jenna sat on the concrete bench cast into the wall and stared at the door with weary resignation. Every so often she glanced at Vila, sprawled limply in the corner; he seemed to have worn himself out during their march through the corridors, despite the pauses he had forced on the party, and had now dropped into an uneasy sleep. She wondered if it might not be safer to wake him up, until a sudden moan warned her that he was coming round anyway. Jenna eyed him warily, not sure what to expect; but he only wriggled awkwardly into something nearer a sitting position, blinking as the room swam into focus. He looked about in confusion, then at Jenna, his expression turning to one of apology as their position sank in.

“Sorry,” he said.

“So am I,” returned Jenna, with a hint of sarcasm. Vila winced.

“Where are we?”

“Some sort of punishment cell. They seem to be keeping us here until they’ve decided what to do with us. Probably interrogate us, now you’re awake.”

“I’m not sure I am.” He put a hand to his head, grimacing, and blearily catching sight of the teleport bracelet on his wrist as he did so. He stared at it, then looked at Jenna again.

“I’ve tried that. The walls must be too thick for the teleport to reach us.”

“Oh.” Making an effort, Vila began to study the door instead.

“Do you think you can get us out?”

“Easy.” This time he sounded more confident; getting to his feet more steadily than he had done earlier, he went to make a closer inspection of the lock. “They’re not trying very hard,” he observed, retrieving a small probe from the top of his boot and setting to work. “I could do this with my eyes closed... although that’s probably just as well,” he admitted as an afterthought. “I might have to. I feel awful. Oh, maybe not... There. Anyone would think they didn’t care whether we stayed locked in here or not.”

“Just get it open, Vila!” The running commentary was grating on Jenna’s nerves.

“What do you think I’m doing?” He swung the door open and held it for her, giving her a look of pained innocence; she got to her feet and walked past him without bothering to reply. Vila, with a sigh, followed. He was still gazing at their surroundings, trying to piece together the memory of how they had ended up there in the first place; then a look of alarm spread across his face as he suddenly remembered an earlier, more urgent problem. “Jenna!”

“Now what?” Jenna stopped and turned on her heel to face him.

“The message... there was a message...”

“All right.” She looked at him curiously, uncertain whether his incoherence was down to concussion or panic. “What message?”

“There was a message coming through... I’ve just remembered... I was trying to tune it in and... there’s a deep space cruiser heading our way, with a full escort of pursuit ships!”

Jenna stared at him in horror. “What? When?”

“I don’t know; that’s when he hit me.” Vila winced again at the memory. “But shouldn’t we get out of here?”

“Without the others?”

“You can warn them, can’t you? We’re not in that cell now.”

Jenna tried her bracelet again. “Blake?” There was no response. “It must be this whole area. It’s no good; we’ll have to find them. You are sure?” She started to move again, this time at a pace approaching a run.

“Yes!” Vila did his best to keep up, his footsteps still a little uncertain. “They could be anywhere,” he protested.

“If we get back to where we were before, then we should be able to contact them.” Jenna showed no sign of slowing down; Vila, on the verge of another protest, decided to save his breath to keep up with her.

They soon had to slow down again; the way out of the cell block was barred by a thick metal door. Waiting for Vila to catch up, Jenna drew his attention to it.

“What about that one?”

He put out a hand to prop himself against the wall. “Wait a minute,” he pleaded, at the same time giving the door an appraising glance. “It’s complicated, that one.”

“Can you do it?”

“It really needs a proper set of tools, unless you’ve got someone very skilled...”

Jenna sighed, but allowed him the claim. “I take it that means yes.” Vila levered himself back off the wall and approached the door.

“Might take a while,” he warned.

“How long?”

“A minute or two?” He hesitated, his head tipped to one side. “Can you hear a noise?”

“What sort of a noise?”

Vila had no chance to reply; they both saw the door handle move at the same moment. Jenna barely had time to catch sight of his stricken expression before she found herself face to face with one of the troopers who had captured them earlier. She froze; so did the trooper. Jenna had the feeling that beneath the faceless helmet, he was staring in surprise; but he pulled himself together quickly enough. Reaching for his gun, he stepped forward. Jenna, unarmed, could only watch. There seemed no chance of escape; then, without warning, the door swung back towards the trooper, knocking him off his feet. His gun skidded across the floor as he went sprawling; Jenna took her chance. Planting a foot firmly in the man’s back, she swiftly leant down and pinioned his wrists.

A worried face peered out from behind the door.

“Did I get him?” Seeing that he had indeed been successful, Vila sidled back into view.

Jenna nodded towards the fallen trooper’s weapon. “Get his gun.”

Vila obediently picked it off the floor, although not without some difficulty in regaining his balance as he straightened up. He pointed the weapon in their prisoner’s direction. Jenna stepped aside. “All right,” she said, without letting go of the man’s wrists. “Get up. But don’t forget you’ve got a gun pointing at you.”

Wordlessly, the trooper obeyed. Vila made a gesture with the gun to indicate he should start walking; again, he did as he was told, limping slightly. They shepherded him back to the cell they had so recently vacated, pushed him inside and shut the door. The lock clicked satisfyingly back into place.

“Now come on,” said Jenna urgently. “Before someone comes looking for him.” She set off at a run again; Vila trailed after her, still clinging to the trooper’s gun.

“Wait for me!”


	7. Chapter 7

In the empty messengers’ room, a ticking could be heard in the silence; then it stopped. The explosion which followed was quite spectacular. Alarms began to ring as smoke billowed out of the doorway, flames beginning to lick the walls.

Further into the complex, Blake, Avon and Gan dodged into a recess in the corridor as a column of troopers ran past, heading in the direction of the disturbance.

“At least that’s worked,” said Blake, once they had passed. He stuck his head out to check that the way was clear, then drew back in again as a second column went racing past them. “We seem to have given them something to think about.”

“I did,” agreed Avon. This time it was clear; they stepped out of their hiding place and continued on their way, still keeping a lookout for any further signs of movement. All seemed quiet; but had they looked inside the entrance to the landing area as they passed it, the amount of activity going on might have alarmed them. Figures scurried about urgently, obviously preparing for a ship to dock. The atmosphere suggested that its arrival was due sooner rather than later; the men on duty had no more time to pay attention to a fire alert from the communications unit than Blake and the others had to notice anything other than someone trying to get in their way. It was perhaps just as well that they did not stop to hear the tannoy message being broadcast.

“Landing area to be cleared and ready in forty-five minutes.”

.....................................................................................................................................

In the smouldering messengers’ room, a black-uniformed officer stood and surveyed the remains.

“I want whoever did this,” he announced harshly. “And I want to know how they got on to the base in the first place. Preferably before they do any more damage.” He glared as a man stepped forward from what remained of the doorway. “What is it, Sergeant?”

The sergeant removed his helmet to speak; he looked as ordinary as he had done when he had been issuing his threats to Jenna and Vila.

“I believe we have them already, sir,” he said eagerly. “I’ve sent one of my men to fetch them from the cells; they should be here shortly.” He gave a twisted grin. “I doubt they’ll give much trouble.”

“Who are they?”

The grin faded. “We were waiting for the official interrogator...”

“You mean you don’t know.” The officer looked unimpressed. “Find out when they’ll be here. I’m sure I can get something out of them. Without waiting for the interrogator.” The sergeant nodded; hurriedly pulling a communicator from his belt, he tried to summon his man.

“Pye? Where are you?” Receiving no response, he stared angrily at the device. “Answer, man!” Aware of his officer’s eyes on him, he did not persist when the silence continued, but offered, “I’ll send another man after him, sir.”

“You had better.” The answer was cool in the extreme. “It might even be sensible to send two, don’t you think?”

With a nod, the sergeant went to obey. Two troopers peeled off from the group and set off for the cell block on his instruction. The rest waited.

.....................................................................................................................................

In the cell block itself, the exit door had stayed as Jenna and Vila had left it while they were dealing with their prisoner; the steep staircase on the other side, however, proved an unexpected challenge. Vila was obviously flagging after his earlier efforts; Jenna, trying to hide her impatience, waited at the top.

“Come on, Vila!”

“I’m trying!” he protested, clinging to the handrail. “The stairs keep moving.” He sounded unconvinced by his own explanation; Jenna made an exasperated noise, then caught his disorientated look and realised he was probably just as likely to fall backwards as climb to the top without help. With a swift glance round to ensure there was no sign of anyone coming, she went back and held out her hand for the gun he was still grasping. 

“Give me that.” He handed it over almost absently. “Now look straight ahead; not up the stairs... I said not up, Vila, unless you want to fall back down... Better?”

“Not really,” said Vila. He started climbing again, all the same; Jenna kept a hand out to catch him if necessary. She half-expected to see a column of black-clad troopers as they reached the top, but all seemed quiet. She heaved a sigh of relief; Vila slumped against the nearest wall. “Won’t the teleport work up here?” he queried hopefully. “We must be on the surface now.”

Jenna tried her bracelet again; the only response was static interference. She shook her head.

“It’s no good. We have to keep going, or we’ll never warn the others in time. Besides,” she added, “Without the teleport, if we don’t move, we’re stuck here.” This reminder only served to make Vila look sicker than ever.

“Try it again,” he pleaded.

Jenna shook her head. “We haven’t got time! If those pursuit ships see the Liberator...”

“...we’re stuck here,” Vila finished for her. “I knew I didn’t want to come.”

“It’s a bit late for that. Now move!”

“All right.” He sighed, then hesitated. “Which way? I can’t remember.” With an impatient look, Jenna gave him a push in the right direction. “Oh. Right.”


	8. Chapter 8

If the sergeant and his men had assumed they had the intruders responsible for the explosion safely under lock and key, it had not stopped an alarm being raised to warn the guards to be on the look-out; and it now seemed impossible for Blake’s party to cross the next corridor without dealing with half-a-dozen armed troopers in the process.

“We seem to be outnumbered,” observed Blake.

“Can’t we distract them somehow?” queried Gan. Avon looked at him disdainfully.

“Are you volunteering?”

“If you like.”

“I don’t think it’s come to that yet,” Blake interrupted.

“Then are you planning on staying here indefinitely?” Avon asked him, taking another look at the troopers. “Because they aren’t going anywhere.”

“There must be another way round.”

“They’re looking for us now, Blake. Whichever way we go we’ll have the same problem.”

“Give me one of those.” Blake gestured to the bag of explosives Avon was still carrying; Avon gave him an unfathomable look, but held the bag out. Taking one of the devices, Blake set the timer, glanced into the corridor, and hurled the bomb in the troopers’ direction. One of them started forward to see where it had come from; his companions dragged him back, diving for cover without waiting to see how long a fuse had been set. “Now!” Blake led the dash across the corridor while they had the chance. This time they heard the explosion close behind them; the floor vibrated beneath their feet as they ran.

“Let’s hope we don’t need to go back that way,” remarked Avon, unimpressed.

“We’ll worry about that once we’ve found the others.”

“Assuming they are where we think they are.”

“Yes.” Blake paused to check round the next corner; this time it was clear.

“Left,” said Avon, checking the map as they approached a junction. Blake nodded, taking the correct fork; then he stopped, hurriedly pressing himself against the wall. Avon and Gan, seeing what had alarmed him, lost no time in following his example.

Two troopers, appearing from a service door at a run, glanced up and down the passage; then, spotting something not quite right, one of them pointed in the direction of Blake’s party. The other brought up his gun and fired. Ducking, Blake and Avon returned his fire. Gan, too, drew his gun, although he hesitated to use it. They did not wait to see if their shots had been accurate or not; looking frantically for the nearest exit route, they ran.

.....................................................................................................................................

“It’s not far now.” Jenna tried to inject a note of encouragement into her voice as Vila stopped dead in front of her, almost making her walk straight into him; then she realised why he had come to a halt. The sound of running footsteps echoed from the concrete walls, getting louder by the second.

Vila looked at her, eyes wide. “There’s someone coming,” he said, somewhat unnecessarily.

Taking a chance, Jenna tried a nearby door. It opened into an unoccupied storage room.

“In here,” she told him. He needed no second bidding, almost breaking into a run; Jenna quickly closed the door and joined him in crouching behind a set of shelves for cover. They waited for the noise outside to die away; but the footsteps halted abruptly outside the room instead. 

Quietly, Jenna manoeuvred their borrowed gun so it was pointing through the shelves and at the door; she glanced at Vila, but he seemed too frightened to notice what she was doing. The door opened; three figures piled in. 

“Blake!” exclaimed Jenna, immediately letting go of the gun and coming out of hiding.

“Jenna!” Blake sounded as surprised as she had. He looked around the room, while Avon positioned himself at the door, his gun held ready. “What... No, never mind; we haven’t got time. Where’s Vila?”

“Here,” said a faint voice from behind the shelves. When nobody emerged, Gan went to investigate.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’ve got a terrible headache.” Vila grimaced, swaying on his feet as Gan helped him up; Gan waited patiently until he had found his footing.

“What happened?” demanded Blake.

“We’ve been trying to reach you; there’s a deep space cruiser on its way here, with an escort of pursuit ships.” Jenna cut in, desperate to deliver the warning. There was no doubting her urgency; for a brief moment, Blake looked taken aback. He soon took it on board, however.

“When’s it due to arrive?”

“We don’t know. Vila got himself knocked out at that point in the message...”

“It wasn’t intentional!” protested Vila indignantly, as everyone turned to look at him. “You’d shut him in that cupboard; how was I supposed to know he’d come round and get out? You should have hit him harder...”

“You’re lucky he didn’t hit you harder,” Jenna reminded him. 

“He did a pretty good job as it is!” Vila felt for the lump on the back of his head, shuddering as he found it. “Ohhh... that hurts.” He swallowed, looking pale. “And I still don’t feel very well...”

“You’ll be all right back on the Liberator,” said Gan confidently.

“Only the teleport isn’t working. Something must be blocking it in this part of the building,” Jenna told him. “We’ve been trying to contact you all. If those pursuit ships arrive...”

“Which they will no doubt do an hour ahead of schedule,” Avon interrupted. “I told you, Blake, we need to get out of here.” He risked opening the door a crack to look out. “It appears we have lost them.”

“Lost who?” asked Jenna.

“Just some guards we met on the way,” Blake answered. 

“We met some of them earlier,” said Vila. “They weren’t very friendly.”

“Shall we move?” Avon had opened the door fully now; everyone followed him out. “I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you that those ships might already have arrived? If we are out of range, then Cally would hardly have been able to warn us either.”

“I didn’t think I could feel any worse,” Vila informed him miserably, “But you’ve just proved me wrong.”

“Well, that’s hardly a challenge,” returned Avon coolly.

Blake interrupted, before an argument could begin. “Back the way we came. Keep checking for a signal,” he instructed. “We don’t need to go any further than necessary to get within teleport range; with any luck those guards have passed us by now, if they were following.”

“And if they weren’t?” inquired Jenna.

“Then they probably couldn’t,” answered Avon meaningfully. He kept his gun at the ready, however; Blake, too, had his drawn. Gan, bringing up the rear, had left his holstered for now, but he was obviously alert for any sign of trouble. The return trip, though, seemed remarkably quiet, at least until they reached the shattered corridor where Blake had thrown his bomb earlier.

Voices ahead warned them that a clear-up operation was in progress. They stopped at a safe distance; Blake, motioning to the others to stay where they were, crept forward to see what was going on. Judging by the noises being made, there was a lot of dust ahead; as he stuck his head out to investigate, he received a face full of it himself. For a moment, half-blinded and spluttering, he drew back, frantically wiping the dust from his eyes. When his vision cleared, it was not to a pretty sight. 

Hearing a clatter behind him, he turned to see the others hemmed in by Federation troopers, hopelessly outnumbered; Avon had thrown his gun to the floor in disgust, while Gan was being relieved of his by one of the troopers. Blake glanced back into the dusty corridor, only to see more figures cutting off any hope of escape in that direction.

It was more in hope than expectation that he tried his bracelet, but there was no mistaking the urgency in his tone.

“Teleport! Cally, teleport now!”


	9. Chapter 9

To the combined amazement of the troopers and the Liberator’s crew, Blake’s desperate message brought results. Teleport was not an instant too soon; the troopers’ bullets hit thin air as their targets fizzled away.

“Blake!” Cally had got up to join the others as they materialised, relief plain on her face. “There is a squadron of pursuit ships showing on the detectors...”

“I’ll get us out of here.” Jenna didn’t wait to hear any more before she headed for the flight deck; Avon followed, quite willing to lend his assistance in this particular instance.

“I’ve been trying to warn you...”

“We were out of range. It’s lucky we got a signal back when we did,” said Blake, without elaborating. “How long have we got?”

“Zen says they will be within firing range quite soon.”

“All right.” Blake paused as a moan from behind them reminded him that one of the party was injured. “Someone had better see to Vila; I’ll go and see how Jenna’s managing.” He, too, hurried to the flight deck, leaving Cally and Gan to deal with their casualty.

Jenna and Avon were already in their positions, Jenna laying in a course which would take them to a safe distance from the approaching pursuit ships.

“Don’t go too far, Jenna.” She paused as Blake announced his arrival with this instruction.

“What are you suggesting?” She glanced at the main screen. “Zen, are those ships within range yet?”

+Negative+, answered Zen.

“They’re only on escort duty,” Blake reminded her. “As long as we stay out of the way until they leave, then we can go back down and finish what we came for in the first place.”

Avon looked unimpressed. “We?” he queried. “We only just got out of the place, Blake. Are you really suggesting we’d be so lucky a second time? They’ll be ready for us now.”

“Not if we go back while they’re dealing with that deep space cruiser. It must be pretty badly damaged if it’s travelling with a full escort. While they’re occupied with that, we can deal with the main computer.”

“You have neglected to take account of one thing in your calculations.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’m having nothing to do with it.”

+Information,+ said Zen suddenly. +Six enemy ships have been detected within strike range.+

“Can we outrun them?” Blake turned his attention to the more immediate problem.

“Possibly.” Jenna answered without looking up. 

+Plasma bolt launched,+ warned Zen.

“It seems they might have other ideas,” remarked Avon, hurriedly grabbing the edges of his station as Jenna took evasive action. The shot missed.

“Activate the force wall,” Blake instructed, as another of the pursuit ships manoeuvred to try its luck. This time, with the Federation ships beginning to organise the attack, Jenna found it more difficult to dodge; the Liberator rocked under the impact of another plasma bolt.

Blake reached for the communicator switch as he righted himself. “Cally, we need help down here. Get yourselves to the flight deck...” Another blow to the ship’s hull cut him short. This time Jenna spared him a worried glance from the controls.

“We can’t keep this up indefinitely, Blake. We’re building speed, but they’ve got us hemmed in.”

“What speed are we doing?”

“Standard by three.”

“Zen, can you plot a course through the pursuit ships?”

+Negative. All escape routes are covered by enemy fire.+

Cally ran on to the flight deck as Zen made this announcement; Blake greeted her arrival with relief.

“Cally, operate the neutron blasters.” With a nod, she took Vila’s usual position, asking no questions but awaiting the order to fire. “Where are the others?”

“I left Gan with Vila in the medical unit.”

+Six plasma bolts launched and running.+

“Six!” exclaimed Blake. “Fire, Cally. We’ll have to blast a way out.” Cally slammed her hand down on the button; they had the satisfaction of one of the Federation ships falling off the detector screens.

“One down,” said Avon.

“Standard by four and increasing...” Jenna was concentrating on piloting the Liberator through the resulting gap before the remaining ships closed it again. “They’re closing in...”

“Fire!” 

Cally fired again, less successfully this time. 

“If they don’t get out of the way, we’re going to ram them...” Jenna’s warning came to an abrupt halt as the combined force of several plasma bolts shook the Liberator once more; somehow they kept their footing, and Cally pressed the firing button again. Another gap opened in the ring of pursuit ships; Jenna urged the Liberator forwards. “Standard by six... I think we might do it!”

+Power bank one exhausted. Power bank two at fifty percent capacity.+

“We’re draining the banks too quickly.” Blake looked across at Jenna. “Can you get us through that gap?”

“Yes, but I need full power.”

“All right. Let the force wall down.”

“What?” Avon looked up.

“It’s too much of a drain. We need to get away from here, and if we can’t get up enough speed...”

“I hope you’re right.” Avon deactivated the force wall; the Liberator immediately picked up speed, but not quite fast enough for another plasma bolt to completely miss its mark. They were all jolted off their feet by the impact. Jenna struggled upright first, grasping for the controls before they could drift too far off course; seeing Cally reaching for the neutron blasters, she shook her head.

“Wait,” she said breathlessly. Cally waited; Jenna aimed the Liberator back at the narrowing gap while Blake and Avon picked themselves up and dusted themselves down. “Now!”

Cally fired, widening the gap by one pursuit ship; and they were through. The three remaining ships gave chase, but they were soon lost in the Liberator’s wake. Everyone breathed again.

“Zen, damage status report.”

+Auto-repair systems are now functioning. Repairs will be completed shortly.+

“Right.” Blake threw himself down on the forward couch, looking up as Gan entered the flight deck. “Gan, how’s Vila?”

“He’ll be all right,” confirmed Gan. “He wasn’t very happy when the ship started getting thrown about back there, but he seems a bit better now. I left him to sleep for a while.”

“Yes, well. That should at least be within his capability,” said Avon, before turning to Blake. “And after that do you still want to go back? Admit it. K-14 is the last place we want to be approaching, now or for the foreseeable future.”

“We’ve got rid of at least three of their ships,” answered Blake.

“And left the other three to try again. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I would like to remain alive a little longer.”

“You’re exaggerating, Avon,” said Cally reproachfully. “By the time we return those ships will have gone.”

“You have no way of guaranteeing that.”

“Nothing’s guaranteed,” observed Gan.

“Nothing?”

“We have a job to finish,” interrupted Blake, “And I intend to finish it.”

“I’m glad the rest of us were included in that decision,” remarked Avon cuttingly.

“If you want to object, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time on the way back.”


	10. Chapter 10

The return journey was accomplished without any further objection from Avon, mainly because he had left the flight deck in disgust. Blake had let him go without a word, carefully carrying on with his planning.

“Jenna, you’ll have to stay on board this time,” he said as they drew closer to the planet. “Once we’re down and safe, leave orbit again. You can come back for us later.”

“How will I know when to come back?” 

“Give us an hour. It shouldn’t take longer than that. If it does, we can let you know.” Jenna nodded agreement. Blake, having settled the point, paid attention, seemingly for the first time, to the fact that some of his crew were missing. “Where’s Avon?”

“Who knows?”

“Cally, see if you can find him.” Cally got up obediently; Blake went on, “And what about Vila? We should see how he is.”

“I’ll go and check on him,” offered Gan, joining Cally on her way out.

They returned shortly afterwards, accompanied by Avon; he still looked reluctant, but deigned to allow Blake to explain his plans.

“So you are proposing to teleport into the centre of the complex, having already provided the Federation with a warning that you intend to attack it by your previous abortive attempt, and then ensure we are stranded there by sending the Liberator out of range? I can’t say I applaud your tactics,” he said when Blake had finished.

“Have you a better idea?”

“As it happens, yes. Admit defeat and leave well alone.” Seeing a stubborn expression settle on Blake’s features, Avon added, “But if you insist, I can’t stop you. Just don’t expect me to come with you. I imagine the chances of survival may be greater up here.”

“I can’t force you,” admitted Blake.

“I’m glad you have at least that much sense.”

“But I would like your help.” Avon said nothing; Blake did not press the point. “How is Vila?” he asked, turning to Gan.

“He’s not fit to come back with us yet,” Gan reported. “But he’s all right for now, resting.”

“I will come with you,” Cally offered. “I’m sure I could be of some assistance.”

“You are trying to destroy an intricate computer system,” Avon interrupted suddenly. “It will take more than one or two bombs to put it out of action for any length of time.”

“You’re the expert,” allowed Blake.

“Quite. None of you possess the necessary knowledge.”

“You’ve made your position quite clear. I don’t expect you to come; it’s your choice.”

“You’ll have very little chance of success if I don’t.” The offer was obliquely made, but it was there.

“I know,” Blake agreed. “We’re getting close now; we’d better get ready. Are you sure you want to join us, Cally?”

“Yes.” Cally went to get her things; Blake and Gan, neither of whom had bothered to change out of their surface clothes from earlier, went to wait in the teleport section. Avon paused for a moment, out-staring Jenna, who was watching him inquiringly; then he, too, left the flight deck in the same direction that Cally had taken.

.....................................................................................................................................

He reappeared in the teleport section just as Jenna was getting ready to put the others down; they paused, taking in the fact that he was obviously dressed to accompany them to the surface.

Avon said nothing, merely taking a bracelet and joining them in the teleport bay; when their hesitation continued, however, he met Blake’s enquiring glance and answered the unspoken question.

“You will undoubtedly fail to achieve what you are setting out to do if I don’t come with you; but if I do, there’s just a chance we might be back in time to make it unnecessary for the ship to leave orbit.”

Blake looked at him for a moment; then he nodded. “All right.” He glanced over at Jenna. “Is that all right with you?”

“I suppose so,” agreed Jenna. “I’ll only move off if there’s any sign of those pursuit ships coming back. There’s been no sign of anything on the detectors, so you should have a little time, at least.”

“That is all I intend to need,” agreed Avon. He gave Blake a dark look. “The computer system only. Any additional heroics are down to you entirely.”

“Understood,” said Blake mildly. “All right, Jenna; put us down.”

Jenna did so, this time quite near the wrecked corridor where they had so nearly come to grief earlier. It was still unpleasantly dusty, but the silence which hung over the area at least told them that the clearing-up party had finished for the moment. The corridors seemed deserted.

“Down and safe,” Blake reported.

“Debatable.” Avon still had obvious misgivings, but he allowed Blake to issue his orders.

“Gan, Cally, take these.” He handed over the bag of bombs, which he had brought back with him. “Concentrate on setting as many of them as you can, but hold a couple back; I may need them later. Avon and I will go and see to this computer system.” He waited just long enough to see that Cally and Gan had taken in these instructions, then turned to Avon. “Is that all right?”

“Just get a move on.”

Blake gave a faint smile. “I wasn’t intending to hang about longer than necessary. What about that door lock, when we get to it?”

“I was almost through it when we stopped before.”

“Then we shouldn’t have a problem.”

Avon looked decidedly less optimistic; but he made no comment. Together, they began to walk back towards the main control room.


	11. Chapter 11

It was surprisingly quiet on the way; neither of them offered to break the silence by speaking. Finding themselves back outside the main control room, they looked warily at one another.

“It won’t take you long?” asked Blake.

“I was nearly through it before. Hopefully this time I won’t be interrupted.” Avon inspected the locking mechanism he had been working on earlier. “It hasn’t been reset.” Taking out a fine metal probe he began the job once more; Blake stood waiting, trying to curb his impatience. There was still no sign of anyone approaching; useful, but strange. Blake was just about to remark on the fact when an alarm began to sound. He jumped, then realised it was coming from the lock Avon had been attacking.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Avon met his eyes with an expression of deep irritation. “I opened the lock,” he replied. “Now what?”

.....................................................................................................................................

Jenna had returned to the flight deck once she was sure the others had teleported down safely; but after a while, seeing no change on the detector screens, she found herself drawn back to the teleport section. The others had been gone some time without contact, she thought; and even knowing the signal was patchy inside the complex, it was making her uneasy.

She had just sat down at the controls when a noise from the corridor caught her attention. She looked up to find Vila regarding her from the doorway, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Above K-14,” answered Jenna, trying to hide her sudden amusement. Either Gan or Cally had done a thorough job of bandaging a healing pad to Vila’s head, as a result of which he was looking rather outlandish. He appeared not to notice.

“Above K-14? Shouldn’t we be somewhere else? Anywhere else? What about those pursuit ships? They were trying to kill us earlier... Where are the others?”

“On K-14,” said Jenna.

Vila sank on to the end of the teleport bench. “Why?”

“Blake hadn’t finished.”

“Neither had they! They were about to shoot us... Blake must be mad, going back in there.”

“Nobody’s asking you to go back down.” Jenna looked at him again, still struggling not to laugh. “How’s your head?”

“Terrible,” said Vila, looking suspicious as he caught her expression. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she assured him, not quite truthfully. “If it’s that bad, what did you get up for?”

“See if somebody could get me something for it.”

Jenna sighed, interpreting the request. “You’ll have to mind the teleport,” she warned him.

“Thanks.” He shuffled along the bench as she got to her feet. “Have they been gone long?”

“Longer than I would like,” Jenna admitted. “Avon said he was going to speed things up; but they still needed to get through that lock on the control room.”

“Lock?” Vila immediately looked more interested.

“Don’t you remember? I told you Avon was trying to get through a lock without your help, when I came back for you.”

Vila frowned, trying to think back. “Not really. I was listening,” he added virtuously. “But I had just been hit on the head, you know. It still hurts.”

“Is that supposed to be a hint?” queried Jenna.

He looked innocent. “What sort of lock was it?” 

“One of those magnetic fingerprint ones. If you want me to get you something for your head, stop holding me up.”

Vila ignored the rebuke, suddenly looking serious. “They’re usually connected to an alarm. You don’t want an amateur tackling that.” Jenna stopped in her tracks.

“What?”

“He’ll set it off. Bound to. How long have they been gone?”

“I told you... Long enough for us to be too late to stop it.” She reached for the communicator switch, even so. “Blake? Blake, can you hear me?”

.....................................................................................................................................

Jenna’s voice sounded through Blake’s teleport bracelet, muffled by the still ringing alarm.

“I can hear you,” he confirmed, without taking his eyes off the door in front of him. He and Avon had taken cover as soon as the response to their attempt to enter the control room became evident. A number of troopers had swiftly arrived; their number had just as swiftly been depleted when some of them carried the search for the intruders rather too close for comfort. Neither Blake nor Avon had stopped to see precisely how successful their shots had been. Their main priority had simply been to get away. They had managed to hide; but crouched in what seemed to be an unoccupied office, they could still hear the search going on outside.

“Vila says that lock will be alarmed,” Jenna said now.

“We had worked that out,” admitted Blake. “We’ve had to change our plans slightly.”

“Which begs the question of why we haven’t changed them to getting out of here already,” put in Avon.

“We’ve been through this. We can’t raise Cally or Gan, and we can’t just leave them when the place is crawling with troopers looking for us.”

Avon said nothing; even his expression was unreadable.

“Is there anything we can do?” Jenna’s query was overlaid with a squeak of protest in the background; presumably Vila.

“Nothing except wait,” Blake told her. “Unless there’s any sign of trouble up there?”

“Nothing at the moment.”

“Then until we find out what’s happened to Gan and Cally, just stay put. We’ll be back with you as soon as we can.”

“Sooner, if I have anything to do with it,” muttered Avon. Blake ignored him; he carried on, in a more normal tone, “I don’t see what use you think we will be continuing to sit about here.”

“Then we’d better move, hadn’t we?”


	12. Chapter 12

Cally and Gan had planted their first couple of bombs and were on their way to find a suitable place for another when they became aware of the alarm ringing in the distance. Cally stopped, momentarily startled; Gan looked concerned.

“Do you think the others are in trouble?” he asked.

“It sounds like it.” Cally put out a hand to stop him as he turned back in the direction Blake and Avon had taken. “Wait. We must help them; we will be caught before we can do anything if we go straight back.”

Gan halted, seeing the sense in this. “What do you suggest, then?”

Cally, still thinking, did not answer immediately.

“We can make a distraction,” she said eventually. “If we set a very short fuse on one of these...” She indicated the bag of bombs they were still carrying; Gan frowned uncertainly.

“Isn’t that risky?”

“Not if we move quickly enough. It will draw them to the explosion; then we can go the other way in safety.”

“Let’s hope they haven’t already captured Blake and Avon, then.”

“I think the alarms would have stopped if they had been caught.” Cally began to set the timer on one of the devices, looking round for a suitable place to put it.

“There’s a room round this corner,” suggested Gan, investigating cautiously. “It looks as if it might be the way in to the stores, or something of that sort.” Cally wasted no time on words; hurrying to the room in question, she placed the bomb and ran back to Gan. He waited until she was a step ahead of him before retreating with her, ready to shield her should the blast come earlier than they expected. Finding a space under a staircase, at what seemed to be a safe distance, they crawled in and waited.

They did not have to wait long. Even from their hiding place, they felt the walls shake as the bomb exploded. They stayed put, hoping the distraction was going to work; then they saw the first black-clad figures hurrying past.

“It’s worked,” observed Gan quietly. Cally just nodded in reply. More troopers went by; not until they were out of sight in the opposite direction did she begin to crawl back out of their shelter, Gan following. Having checked to make sure he was still there, Cally wasted no more time. She began to lead the way back towards the main control room.

.....................................................................................................................................

Blake, having been goaded for long enough by Avon, had first cautiously approached the door between themselves and their pursuers and then, equally cautiously, opened it a fraction. He closed it again almost instantly.

“They’re still there,” he reported.

“What did you expect?” Without waiting for a reply, Avon added, “How many?”

“I saw five,” Blake told him. “Too many.”

“So what do you suggest?”

Blake had no chance to answer; from somewhere in the distance, there was the sound of an explosion. It was followed by silence; then, eventually, a shouted instruction from outside, and noises indicating that the troopers patrolling there had gone to investigate. He tried the door again; this time, he left it open.

“Let’s hope the others didn’t have anything to do with that. Nothing should have gone off yet; if they’ve made a mistake...”

“If they made a mistake, there’s a good chance we’re wasting our time going looking for them,” remarked Avon. He followed Blake into the now deserted corridor, however. “It does seem to have cleared our way back to the control room...”

“I’d rather find out what’s happened to Cally and Gan first.”

“We have a limited amount of time. Or had you forgotten that?”

“Which is all the more reason to find them first if they’re in trouble.”

“We don’t know that they are, but we certainly will be if we go chasing after the guards we have just managed to shake off. I told you, Blake, I’m here to deal with the computer system. Nothing more.” Seeing that Blake was about to protest, Avon added, “I don’t need your help with it.”

“Then I’ll go and look for the others. You go back to the control room.” Some semblance of agreement reached, they split up; Blake in the direction the explosion had come from, Avon to carry out his appointed task.

.....................................................................................................................................

Blake had not gone too far before he saw a flash of movement ahead. He crouched back, his gun drawn and ready; then, recognising the approaching figures, he relaxed.

“What happened?” he demanded, as Cally and Gan drew closer.

“Blake! Where is Avon? We heard the alarm...”

“It went off when we tried to get into the control room. Avon’s gone back to try again; all the guards seem to have gone to investigate that explosion. Was it anything to do with you?”

“We thought if the alarm was anything to do with you, you might appreciate the distraction.”

Blake smiled. “We did. Although I must admit you had me worried for a while. We didn’t know if you’d been caught up in it.”

“We were careful not to be,” Gan assured him.

“But what about Avon? Does he need our help?” Cally was still focused on the task in hand.

“He says not; but I think we should go along to the control room anyway. There’s too much going on down here; I think it might be safer for us to stay as a group, after all.” Blake, frustrated as he was by the forced change of plan, wasted no more time discussing it; the three of them carried on to find Avon.

The control room, when they reached it, was marked by the body of a trooper lying outside.

“Is he dead?” asked Cally.

“Unconscious, I think,” answered Avon’s voice from inside the room. “I didn’t stop to check.” 

Gan knelt beside the body and felt for a pulse.

“He’s right. Unconscious.”

“We’d better be quick, then. You never know when he might wake up.” Blake walked into the control room, where Avon was engrossed in dismantling the inner workings of a computer. “How are you getting on?”

“I’m almost there.” Avon looked up; his expression did not change as Cally and Gan followed Blake in, but he remarked, “You found them, then?”

“We found each other. How much longer?”

“A few minutes.”

“All right. Cally, watch the door.” Cally gave a nod and went to stand guard; Blake turned back to Avon. “Is there anything we can do?”

“Yes. Stop talking.”


	13. Chapter 13

On board the _Liberator_ , Jenna was paying ever closer attention to the detector screens. Nothing had shown up; but the last contact she had had with Blake had done nothing to reassure her.

“You’re making me nervous,” Vila complained.

“At least that proves your knock on the head didn’t do any permanent damage. I’d be worried about you if you weren’t.”

Vila frowned, suspecting an insult. “Well, are you happy about sitting up here waiting to be shot at while the others are down there doing... whatever it is they’re doing?”

“There’s nothing anywhere near enough to shoot at us,” pointed out Jenna, not directly answering the question. “Would you feel any happier if you watched the detectors instead?” She turned and gave him a questioning glance as he looked over her shoulder at the screen.

“No,” he admitted, retreating queasily. “I don’t think I like looking at moving lights at the moment...”

“Moving lights?” Jenna turned back to the screen instantly; sure enough, a group of small green dots was blinking across the bottom corner. “Zen! Identify those ships.”

+Approaching craft are Federation pursuit ships.+

“Jenna? When you said nothing was close enough to shoot at us...”

.....................................................................................................................................

“Blake!” The strained silence in the control room was broken by Cally. Still on watch at the door, she had seen the unconscious guard began to stir; she and Blake both made a move to restrain him at the same time, but his hand had reached the communicator on his belt before they could stop it. They wrestled his finger from the button.

“How much longer, Avon? We need to move!” Blake was not certain if an alarm had been raised, but he had no intention of staying to find out. The fallen trooper struggled feebly, fumbling for the button again; Gan, seeing their difficulty, obligingly hit him on the head with the butt of his own gun. The man slumped back to the ground. “Thank you.” Blake released his hand and stood up. “Avon?”

“A few seconds longer...”

“We might not have a few seconds!” Distant sounds certainly indicated movement not too far away; Blake raised his teleport bracelet. “Jenna, stand by for teleport. Jenna?”

The others stared at him as a reply remained absent; then Avon returned to the computer, determined to finish the job he had started.

“Jenna!”

Eventually an answer came through, but it was not Jenna who spoke.

“Blake?”

“Vila! You took your time! We need teleport...”

“We can’t do it.” Vila sounded panicked.

“What do you mean, you can’t do it?”

“We’re moving... the pursuit ships are on their way back. They’re going to hit us if we stay still!”

“How close are they?”

“Close enough!” There was a gulp, followed by a pause; then Vila added apologetically, “We’ll come back for you...”

“We might not still be here to come back for. They’re likely to find us any minute now.”

“Done it,” interrupted Avon, standing upright and looking expectantly at Blake.

“Are you sure you can’t bring us up?”

“Yes...” They stopped listening to Vila’s reply as the sounds outside grew closer, now clearly identifiable as booted footsteps.

“Lock the door!” instructed Blake. Gan slammed it shut as the others retreated further inwards; ignoring Avon’s furious look, Blake pointed his gun, ready for the inevitable moment their pursuers managed to get it open again. “You had better come back quickly, Vila,” he warned through his bracelet. “Because we’re running out of time.”

.....................................................................................................................................

“Did you hear that, Jenna?” Vila turned away from the communicator switch in dismay; Jenna gave him an exasperated look.

“I’m standing right here,” she pointed out. “I’ll turn back as soon as I can. But you’ll have to operate the teleport, and you’ll need to do it quickly. Can you manage that?”

“Yes... at least, I think so...” Vila saw the look she was giving him. “Yes.” He turned to go to the teleport section, his whole demeanour suggesting he wished the entire affair was over and they were anywhere but near K-14; Jenna ignored him, concentrating on outrunning the pursuit ships so that they could go back to being closer still.

.....................................................................................................................................

“If your plan is now to stand here and wait to be blasted to oblivion, I would appreciate it if you don’t include me,” remarked Avon, looking critically at Blake’s stance.

“That wasn’t quite what I was planning. But if you can come up with a way out of here, by all means let us know.” Blake, too, was on edge.

“This?” Avon crossed to a nondescript door in the corner, and opened it. “As I thought. Cupboards are not usually provided with air vents.” The room he had revealed was hardly bigger than a cupboard, but it was at least a step further away from the troopers outside. He surveyed it with disfavour; Cally joined him, while Blake and Gan continued to wait in case of a break-in.

“It doesn’t lead anywhere,” Cally observed.

“No.” It was obviously used for the storage of odds and ends, spares for the control room; the spartan shelving against the walls was identical to that used in Federation outposts everywhere. Behind the dull grey metal, however, one wall glinted curiously. “Cally! Help me move this.” 

Between the two of them, they shifted the shelving unit out to reveal what had obviously once been a large window. Cally’s expression was one of incredulous hope; Avon allowed himself a small smile.

“Blake. You wanted your way out. Here it is.”

Blake and Gan crowded in, retreating from the hammering that had now begun on the outer door.

“Let me.” Gan, seeing what was wanted, seized the nearest heavy object- a fire extinguisher, by the look of it- and enthusiastically swung it at the glass. The window cracked, but did not break immediately; some sort of protective film had obviously been applied when it had been decided to block it off. Gan tried again; this time it gave in. He continued, with Blake’s help, to make the hole big enough for them; just in time. Hearing the lock of the outer door give behind them, Blake ordered,

“Go! Cally, you first.”

Cally scrambled through obediently, realising there was no time for argument. She crouched on the other side as Gan followed, then Avon and Blake, almost together. 

“Go!” repeated Blake urgently, looking over his shoulder to check whether they had been spotted. Picking a direction at random, they began to run, just as the first black helmet reached the hole in the wall.


	14. Chapter 14

“Do you have any idea where we’re going, Blake?” Avon did not stop to ask the question; they were all too aware of the need to stay ahead of their pursuers for that.

“Anywhere. As long as we can stay one step ahead until the others come back for us...”

“If they do.”

“When they do.” Blake’s statement was reinforced by a nod from Cally; Avon still looked sceptical.

“Your faith is touching.” They paused for breath as they slipped out of sight through a set of doors. “Now what? This is hardly a hiding place.” Looking round, it seemed that Avon was right; instead of taking them further out of reach, they had run straight into the most populated area of the complex. Through the window beside a second set of doors, they could see the damaged deep space cruiser. The noises emanating from around it suggested it was still under repair; Blake watched through the window with interest for a few moments.

“You’re not thinking of going in there?” asked Gan.

“Well, it’s the last place they’ll think of looking for us.” Blake laid a hand on the door with a confidence the others did not share. “Come on.”

.....................................................................................................................................

“Zen, status report.” On board the _Liberator_ , Jenna was thankful that she was not entirely single-handed on the flight deck. Vila, she decided, was safer left in the teleport section; especially judging by his sickly reaction to the flashing lights of the detector screens. She only hoped he would manage to carry out his part of the plan in time; assuming they got back to carry it out at all.

+Pursuit ships are just outside accurate firing range.+

“Thank you.” That at least meant they were outrunning the pursuit ships for the moment, but they were no nearer losing them entirely. Taking a moment to operate the communicator, she called, “Are you all right back there, Vila?”

“Yes.” The answer was hurried, as if he was trying to conceal his wandering concentration. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing, yet. But you had better be ready when I tell you. I don’t think these pursuit ships are going to give up easily. Once I manage to turn back, we aren’t going to get a second chance.”

.....................................................................................................................................

Nobody challenged Blake’s party as they entered the repair bay. Standing just inside the door, they looked round curiously; Avon, glancing at Blake, saw the light of interest spark in his eyes.

“Our objective is to get out of this place in one piece,” he reminded him, leaning across to speak into his ear.

“I’m aware you consider your part done now that the computer system is dealt with.”

“I’ll consider it done when I’m back aboard the _Liberator_. Until then I’m in as much danger as the rest of you are, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t do anything stupid.”

Blake smiled. “I’ll bear it in mind.” He considered their surroundings for a few moments longer, then added, “I didn’t expect to get such a good chance to deal with the ship as well.”

“What are you planning?” asked Cally.

“I’ll do it. How many of those are left?” Blake indicated the bag of bombs which Gan was still carrying; Gan handed it over for him to look. “That should do.” Still without explaining what he was about to attempt, he indicated a small glass-walled room at the far side of the repair bay. “If we can make it into the supervisor’s office...”

Cally and Gan nodded agreement; Avon looked unconvinced, but followed anyway. Cautiously, they made their way around the outside wall, carefully avoiding going too close to the cruiser in case they were noticed by the engineers working on it. They had just reached the side where the office was situated when a man strolled out of the shadows beneath the ship; he stopped, startled at the sight of them, then opened his mouth to shout.

“Don’t,” Blake warned him. Finding the warning backed up by four guns pointed in his direction, the man shook his head soundlessly. He watched, warily, as they came closer; then, in desperation, bolted for the office they were trying to reach themselves. They ran after him, not quite daring to shoot in case they could overpower him without drawing attention to their presence. They nearly managed it; as they entered the office, Avon hooked an arm round the man’s throat to drag him back from the controls he was reaching for. It was too late. Despite the choking sounds he was making, their quarry managed to hit frantically at a button on the desk in front of him. Once more, an alarm sounded. 

“It’s a bit late to choke him to death now,” Blake pointed out. Avon still held on. “Stay here; I might still have time. See if you can contact the _Liberator_.” He hurried back out towards the crippled cruiser; Avon, realising his captive had gone limp in his grasp, finally let go. The man slumped to the ground, gasping for air; Gan hovered over him threateningly, just in case.

“Get down,” Avon instructed, realising that the very bottom of the glass panelled walls was opaque. It was not much of a chance, but it was better than nothing. “Cally, watch the door.”

“Right.” Cally crouched just inside the doorway, her gun held ready; Avon lifted his teleport bracelet.

“Vila, you had better be there.”

.....................................................................................................................................

Jenna was still watching the detector screens, and what she could see convinced her that by the time they had outrun the pursuit ships, it might very well be too late for the others, stranded inside the Federation base. There was, however, something else she could try.

“Zen, give me full manual control.” It would have been better if she could have recalled Vila to the neutron blasters, but she would just have to hope for the best.

+Confirmed.+

“Vila?”

“Yes?” He answered more normally this time, to her relief.

“This is it. You might want to hold on.” She did not wait to hear his response to that, but went straight into an evasive manoeuvre which had served her purpose before now; albeit in a smaller ship. The _Liberator_ dropped suddenly; there was a howl of protest from the teleport section, but Jenna ignored it, intent on turning the ship through its own length before their pursuers could realise what she intended. This accomplished, she headed back the way they had come, beneath the pursuit ships, as they were still trying to turn in formation.

.....................................................................................................................................

A shot fired from Cally’s gun told both Avon and Gan that they had been sighted; hemmed into the office as they were, however, there was nothing they could do about it.

“Troopers,” reported Cally tersely. “They will be here any second.” She fired again; the man who had sounded the warning stared at her in dismay, his expression suggesting he was afraid he might be the next target. Then he glanced at Gan, still guarding him, and shivered.

“Is there any sign of Blake?” asked Gan.

“No.” A third shot; this time there was a cry from outside. Obviously Cally had hit her target. “They are getting very close now, Avon.”

“Vila! Answer me, damn you!”

“All right!” When the answer came, in injured tones, he could hardly believe it.

“We’re ready for teleport...”

“Wait! What about Blake?” Cally turned her head fractionally, shooting another trooper as she voiced her protest. His fellows raised their guns in retaliation; at such point blank range, there was no chance they would miss.

“We can’t wait any longer,” snapped Avon angrily. “Vila, teleport now!” They dematerialised at the very last second, reappearing breathless and dishevelled in the teleport bay.

“Where’s Blake?” Vila’s bandage had slipped partly over one eye, giving him the look of an unsuccessful pirate, but he could see well enough to count the three figures in front of him.

“Still down there,” Avon answered shortly. Vila stared at him, horrified.

“Jenna, wait!” he shouted. “Blake’s not here!” He began frantically trying to get a locator fix on their missing leader. “But I didn’t... you told me to teleport, didn’t you? And I did everything I should have done...” On the verge of panic, he began to try random combinations of buttons and switches in a desperate attempt to retrieve Blake from the planet’s surface. “He’s got to be here! We can’t wait any longer; they’re still after us!” Cally hurriedly edged him along the teleport bench, checking the screen herself.

“You’ll make it worse,” she warned him. “Blake wasn’t with us when Avon called you.”

“Where was he, then?”

Cally ignored the wide-eyed question, and tried the communicator switch. “Blake, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” confirmed a familiar voice. Vila slumped in relief. “Bring me up, will you? Quickly.”

A moment later Blake was with them again, but he wasted no time on greetings, heading straight for the flight deck. “Jenna, get us out of here, now!” The others followed, puzzled by his urgency.

“What have you done?” asked Cally.

“You’ll see in a minute. Zen, increase speed. Standard by eight.”

+Confirmed.+

“Why don’t I like the sound of that? He’s done something we need to outrun,” Vila guessed, looking worriedly at Avon. “We can outrun it? Whatever it is?”

“I certainly hope so,” confirmed Avon icily. He, in turn, looked at Blake for an explanation.

“I didn’t have time to set much of a delay on the charges,” Blake returned. He was watching the screen, where Zen had put up an image of K-14; everyone else, realising what his words meant, gathered round to watch with him. The tension in the air was palpable, but Blake showed no sign of having noticed until a sudden plume of smoke and flame erupted from the image on screen. “There it goes...” The _Liberator_ rocked; there were a series of yells and exclamations as the occupants of the flight deck grasped for the nearest support. Then the ship righted itself, and they breathed again.

“Well,” said Jenna as calmly as she could manage, “That’s got rid of those pursuit ships, anyway. I just hope it hasn’t done too much to us.”

“Zen, what’s the damage?”

+Auto repair systems are functioning and repairs will be complete in three minutes and twenty-seven seconds.+

“Then we got away with it.”

“No thanks to you.” Avon gave Blake a look of disgust. “Did you really think that was a risk worth taking?”

“Clearly it was,” argued Blake. “The base is destroyed...”

“The fact that we are not appears to rely entirely on luck!”

“You think so? We’d better leave before our luck runs out, then.” Blake’s answer left Avon dissatisfied, but he could hardly argue the sense of putting as much distance between themselves and K-14 as possible before anyone came to investigate. He remained silent. “Until then, we carry on.”


End file.
